


you dreamed me one night (now i'm dreaming you back)

by majesdane



Category: Sucker Punch (2011)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-17
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 12:23:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the third reality. <i>Rocket, of course, takes an instant liking to Babydoll. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	you dreamed me one night (now i'm dreaming you back)

She never wanted to enlist.

That had been Rocket's idea; even when they were younger, Rocket had talked about enlisting in the Organization. Wouldn't it be fun? she always asked Sweet Pea, on those lazy summer days when they spent most of their time reading books in the garden or dozing off on the grass in the shade. But Sweet Pea didn't think it was fun. Sure, she told Rocket, it seemed like it was fun. Going on missions, getting to see all kinds of different worlds. But everyone forgot that teams were nicknamed Fatal Five for a reason. Working for the Organization was dangerous.

I don't think risking my life is very fun, Rocket, she'd said, rolling her eyes and turning another page in her book.

(And frankly, she just didn't see the point.)

But Rocket had remained staunch in her dream (typical) and what else could Sweet Pea do but follow her, when she left home to enlist? It wasn't like she wanted to do it, but she'd felt like she had to. When Rocket was first born, her mother had explained to her that since Sweet Pea was the oldest, it was her job to look out for her sister. When she was younger, Sweet Pea had always been happy to be her sister's keeper, felt a sense of pride in her role.

Now, it was mostly a chore. At times a rewarding chore, but a chore nonetheless. No one was going to look out for her, Sweet Pea had told Rocket, frowning, as she'd chased Rocket down at the train station where she was buying her ticket to the city. And she was an idiot for wanting to enlist, Sweet Pea had told her, but she was still her sister.

And it was still her job to protect her. Like it or not.

(She knew in a way Rocket sort of resented her for not trusting her to be on her own. That was fine; she'd rather be resented then missed.)

  
;;

  
She knew, without knowing, from the very first moment their eyes met.

Sweet Pea wasn't particularly fond of metaphors, but she couldn't think of any other way to describe it, the way the blood in her veins had turned thick and slow. Like slush. She'd been picking at a tear in her glove when Wise Man had ushered in the team's newest member. Sweet Pea had glanced up, bored, and it was in that moment when her gaze was met by a pair of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

Oh, she thought, as Wise Man introduced her, rattling off a list of achievements she'd earned while still at the academy. She'd stared at Babydoll and Babydoll had stared right back, for the few fleeting moments that felt like hours. It was only once Wise Man began to introduce Babydoll to the others that Sweet Pea ducked her head and feigned interest once more in her glove. She'd muttered only the briefest, half-hearted hello, which had earned her a kick and glare across the table from Rocket.

Be polite, she'd mouthed, as if Sweet Pea was doing it on purpose.

(Which, well, she sort of was.)

  
;;

  
Don't think we've met, Babydoll says, later that evening when Sweet Pea's out reading on the veranda after dinner.

Hi, Sweet Pea says, without looking up.

There's a pause, and then Babydoll says, Your sister told me you'd be like this. Sweet Pea _does_ look up, frowning, Babydoll's grinning down at her. I thought maybe she was just saying it, but after seeing you at the meeting and seeing you know, I'm inclined to agree with her.

Oh? So what am I like then?

Difficult.

Sweet Pea rolls her eyes. She would know, wouldn't she?

  
;;

  
Rocket, of course, takes an instant liking to Babydoll.

  
;;

  
You know, even if you don't like her, you could at least try to be civil, Rocket says, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, where Sweet Pea's at the sink, brushing her teeth.

What? Sweet Pea says, through a mouthful of toothpaste. Since when don't I like her?

Oh, come on. It's so obvious -- everyone knows it. I'm just the only one who will actually say anything to you about it. Rocket crosses her arms, catching Sweet Pea's eye in the mirror. You know, she says, she's really nice. And she's new; you should cut her some slack.

Nobody cut Amber any slack when she was new, Sweet Pea muttered under her breath, spitting into the sink and rinsing off her toothbrush.

Sweet Pea.

What?

Can you at least _try_?

Sweet Pea pushes past Rocket to her bedroom, sighing and throwing her hands up. I _am_ trying. And I don't hate Babydoll, just so we're clear, she tells Rocket, who follows. Honestly. I just think -- it's going to take some time to get used to her. That's all. It's been a while since we've had a fifth member. And she's so young -- I just feel like I have to look out for two of you now.

You don't have to look after me, Rocket says stubbornly.

Well no one else is going to, Sweet Pea tells her for the thousandth time, and shuts her bedroom door.

  
;;

  
She's tried. Really, she has.

But the thing is, ever since that day, she hasn't been able to stop thinking about the blue of Babydoll's eyes. They were fierce and blue and bright and they stuck with Sweet Pea long after they'd all gone home, long after their brief encounter in the garden, long after all the missions that followed. She tries to stop thinking about them, but she can't. She can't forget the way Babydoll looked at her, on that first day.

It frustrates her to no end, not being able to forget.

But she can't say that. Not to Rocket, anyway. There would be far too many questions that she wouldn't be able to have answers for. It isn't like -- it isn't like it means anything. Because it doesn't. She just finds Babydoll to be annoyingly intriguing, that's all. She's young and new and sweet and it _is_ charming, in a way. But that's it.

(She doesn't even know why she has to justify it to herself.)

(It's _nothing_.)

  
;;

  
She isn't an idiot; she notices things.

It's in the way Rocket looks at Babydoll, with an expression that isn't entirely readable -- but it's readable _enough_ ; Sweet Pea knows what it means. She's seen that sort of look before, when they were younger and Rocket would become infatuated with every older boy who smiled at her; she's used to Rocket's crushes. But this is different, somehow -- and it _is_ , she knows it is for the obvious reasons, but there's something else about this that she doesn't like, and she's not sure why.

(Just another thing she can't explain; she hates it.)

  
;;

  
You're always out here, aren't you? Babydoll steps onto the veranda, closing the sliding glass door behind her with a soft _click_. Her hair is still damp from the shower; Sweet Pea tries not to stare at the loose strand of hair that's fallen into Babydoll's eyes. Tries to ignore her desire to stand up and tuck it behind an ear. Instead she stares down at her book and says:

It's quieter out here.

Well, yes, I suppose that's true, Babydoll agrees. Especially with Amber and Blondie. She cocks her head back towards the house, and as if on cue there's a muffled _bang_ and an annoyed _could you please not throw me so hard during practice!_ that makes Sweet Pea shake her head and grin, despite herself.

They're a handful.

Babydoll says, You know, I think that's the first real smile I've seen from you yet.

Sweet Pea flushes. That can't possibly be true.

Babydoll shrugs. I don't know. I think it's nice. You look much prettier smiling.

Oh, Sweet Pea says, very, very quietly, stares down at the book in her lap, but doesn't actually see the words.

  
;;

  
There's a spot on the back of Babydoll's neck, right below the part in her hair. Often Sweet Pea catches herself staring at that spot when they're sitting at headquarters being briefed for their next mission or standing with their weapons ready, waiting for the _go_. There's a part of her that wants to lean forward and kiss that very space of skin -- and there's an even bigger part of her that recoils at that fact.

She doesn't want this. This isn't who she is.

(She's not even sure what the thing is she's sure she isn't: the type of girl who falls for the same person her sister's in love with or the type of girl who likes girls. Or maybe it's both.)

Sweet Pea tries to convince herself that it's nothing. That she and Rocket will get over their ridiculous crushes -- and why _shouldn't_ they both like Babydoll, after all, they're _sisters_ , they've had lots of other things in common before -- and everything will go back to normal. She won't feel so uncomfortable every time Babydoll puts her hand on Rocket's wrist, won't feel a stab of jealousy when she sees them in the kitchen together making dinner, laughing.

Won't want to snatch her hand away when Babydoll's brushes accidentally against hers. Won't avoid her eyes every time they're in the same room. When everything is over and done with and back to normal, she'll be able to relax. And then maybe she and Rocket and Babydoll will be able to all be together without Sweet Pea feeling like the sky is pressing down on her, forcing the air from her lungs.

She's stepped aside, of course. She isn't going to compete with Rocket for Babydoll's affections, even though it seems like Babydoll was oblivious to them both. (And besides, this is just a stupid crush, nothing to get upset about, for God's sake.) After all, Rocket's her sister. And sisters are supposed to look out for each other. It's always been Sweet Pea's destiny to play protector, as the older sister. She keeps Rocket from getting hurt.

(And she'd promised their mother, after all. That Rocket wouldn't get hurt.)

And anyway, in a trio like theirs, someone was always destined to lose. She's always known that if this went on like it did, they won't come out of this unscathed in the end, that somewhere along the way someone's going to suffer, someone's going to have to make a sacrifice. She saw things for what they were, wasn't prepared to fight.

She'd promised, after all.

  
;;

  
She sees them. Together. She doesn't want to, but she does. She doesn't want to but does because this is the way things have always worked out. In a way it feels like she's back at the train station, back at home, always one step behind Rocket, who never stopped to worry about the people she left behind while she chased after what she wanted.

In the hallway, outside Rocket's room. They're so close, so _close_ together that Sweet Pea feels something tighten in her chest, like a belt wrapped around her heart set two notches too tight. She knows she shouldn't care, knows she shouldn't watch, but as she sees her sister lean in, smiling, and press her lips against Babydoll's, she clenches her hands into fists, nails digging into her palm.

(The pain grounds her somewhat; she imagines the crescent-shaped indents welling up with blood.)

Oh, Rocket says, looks up, sees her standing there.

Hey, Sweet Pea says, swallows down the lump in her throat and tries to keep her voice as light and casual as she can imagine. Hey, I just wanted to let you guys know that Blondie and Amber are almost finished with dinner. So, you know, she says, stumbling over herself. You should probably come down soon.

Oh, okay, Rocket says, slowly. Uncertainly. Thanks.

Babydoll doesn't say anything. Just _looks_ at Sweet Pea like she knows.

(Sweet Pea hates her.)

Wait, Rocket says, as Sweet Pea turns to leave. Sweet Pea ignores her.

  
;;

  
What are you doing out here?

Couldn't sleep, Babe, Sweet Pea sighs.

She's sitting out on the little bench in the garden, near the back. The grass is cold and wet from rain earlier that evening and it makes her shiver a bit, as Babydoll slips down next to her. They sit in silence for an agonizingly long time; Sweet Pea desperately wills Babydoll to just leave. She can't bear to be so close to her. All she can think about is Rocket kissing Babydoll; she's replayed the scene a dozen times in her head, over and over.

She squeezes her eyes shut now, at the memory. Wants to cry, but wills herself not to.

I just, Sweet Pea starts. Stops. Doesn't continue; she doesn't know what to say. And even if she did, she thinks she probably wouldn't even know how to say it.

It's okay, Babydoll says, like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I only ever just wanted her to be happy, Sweet Pea says, finally. Rocket, I mean. Isn't that what I'm supposed to want? I'm her sister. Her family. The only one she's really got. I should be glad that -- I mean, why can't I just be happy?

Babydoll's hand moves forward, slips into hers. Twists until their fingers are sliding against each other, interlocking. A part of Sweet Pea wants to pull away, but a bigger part of her is sighing in relief. This is all she's wanted for so longer -- longer, even, than she's probably been aware. Babydoll's palm, pressed against Sweet Pea's own, is warm and soft. Comforting.

I don't want to hurt her, Sweet Pea says, some time later. But I just -- I want what she wants.

She squeezes Babydoll's hand a bit tighter. Feels like crying all over again.

You know, Babydoll says, Rocket told me about how when she enlisted, you enlisted too. You wouldn't let her go on her own. You wanted to protect her. It wasn't your dream to enlist, but you went anyway, just out of love for your sister. I think it's brave.

It wasn't brave. It was stupid.

You gave up your life for her, Babydoll continues. Gave up your happiness. You don't think that's a little bit brave?

Sweet Pea can't help it; she kisses her.

  
;;

  
The bed dips and creaks as Rocket crawls into bed with her the next morning. She presses herself flush against Sweet Pea's back, kisses her on the shoulder. Don't be mad, she says, in a very soft voice.

I'm not, Sweet Pea says. I'm not mad at all.


End file.
